The Price of Freedom
by 15EmiRose21
Summary: One night during winter war Finland shows how far he is ready to go in order to gain his freedom and protect his friends. (Summary sounds much more dramatic than the actual fic is) One-shot, Sniper!Finland, (mildly) hinted SuFin. Rated T for swearing in Finnish, blood and one death


**I wrote this one evening after watching some Hetalia music videos and thinking about the White Death, aka. Simo Häyhä, and how people usually like to think that Finland in a way was him in this fandom. So I thought "What if they were buddies and shared the kill count, 'cos it's not like Finland could actually take credit for his kills, right? He's a nation, after all". And that was how The Price of Freedom was created.**

**So, this is a short Sniper!Finland fic. No romance, just a short snippet from the winter war, and how Simo Häyhä received the injury that made him retire from the army(This is not how it actually happened, so this is historically inaccurate).**

**I do not own Hetalia, I only own my own imagination**

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"Simo."

The man whirled around, alarmed, as the sound of a young man's voice echoed in the night. But Simo quickly lowered his handgun, which he had raised to shoot the possible enemy, when he realized who was standing behind him, hands raised in a calming manner. The young-looking man was wearing his usual white winter robe, which made the nation almost disappear into the background. Finland didn't blame Simo in the least for his reaction, this war had everyone on edge.

"Finland. Jumalauta, don't scary me like that. Vittu…"

Finland watched the form of one of his soldiers with a kind of maternal affection, out of all the nation's men Simo was among the most loyal. And the man was but a husk of himself now, when the war had been going on for much too long. He had dark circles around his eyes, his cheeks were hollowed out, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. Finland doubted he'd ever get used to what a war could do to a human. Or a nation…

"You look like shit."

Finland said quietly, the crude words not really matching his babyface and gentle voice, and he had a small teasing smile on his face. When you spent long enough in a military environment with burly, sullen Finnish men your vocabulary adjusted. Simo gave the nation a crooked if not a bit jaded grin, and turned back around. His sniper rifle was propped up in the snow, ready to shoot any intruder who had the guts to dare and try attack within the cover of the night. Finland was sure Russia's men would do no such thing, they had heard of the White Death and none of them wanted to be the next victim.

But then again...you never knew with Russia's men. They could be just as unpredictable as their nation.

"Could say the same to you…does your body still hurt?"

Finland frowned and instinctively he moved his hand to touch his left side. Yes, it still hurt, but Finland wouldn't say it. His people were fighting for their freedom, for Finland's freedom, and he wouldn't dampen their resolution with his useless complaints. This war was the turning point for him, who cared if his body suffered? Finland was a nation, as long as he wasn't wiped off the map he would live.

"Since when did I become weak enough to be coddled by you, soldier?"

Finland answered, but there was no authority in his voice, no anger. Just camaraderie and teasing humour, just how his soldiers liked it. In truth Finland wanted to take care of all of them, he wanted to be their mother hen of sorts, but the men's prides were much too great to be coddled by the shortest one among them.

Even if they all knew Finland was also the mightiest among them.

Simo chuckled, and jerked his head as an invitation for Finland to join him. Finland happily obliged, he had come here to assist Simo in his guard duty, after all. Simo was the best marksman in their army, but he and Finland had a deal. General public could not know of Finland, the embodiment of their very nation. So all of Finland's sniped kills were put on Simo's roster. After this war, whether Simo stayed alive or not, the man would be a legend. Because the only better sniper than Simo was Finland himself. Finland was so good he had to hold back, so Simo wouldn't seem superhuman.

Finland propped up his gun right next to Simo's, and began peering through the periscope. The moonlit night was quiet, not even the wind blew, and there was no movement whatsoever. For now.

"Did you hear about Sverige? He sent volunteer troops, they arrived yesterday."

Finland said quietly, attempting to spark up some small talk. It wasn't their way, Finnish weren't afraid of silences. On the contrary, they were fond of them, but Finland was feeling uncharacteristically nervous tonight. Although the topic he had touched upon was a joyous one for him, and it showed in his tone. All the soldiers knew Finland was close with the nation of Sweden, despite or perhaps _because_ of their history.

"Hm, I did. Heard the boys over in the West had a party when those blokes finally showed up. Hope that jolly mood comes here as well."

The men spoke without looking at each other, keeping their voices low and eyes on the landscape. They were both skilled enough to enjoy the luxury of conversation even in a situation like this.

"Sve sent me a letter, his superiors were furious. But he was able to send troops because they came on their own accord, they don't have the backing of the government. It's so much like him, to act on his own like that. But he really saved our asses…"

To that Simo merely grunted, when Finland started talking about Sweden the small man could go on for ages. All the soldiers respected and liked their nation, but Finland could really talk their ears off sometimes. When it came to that the nation differed from many of his citizens.

Suddenly a quiet sound resounded through the winter forest, and both men tensed, their fingers immediately on the triggers. They both peered towards where the sound had come from, or at least tried. The sound echoed, and the source of it was hard to locate. But it was Finland who eventually spotted what had made the sound, he saw the silhouette of a human. Without hesitation Finland released a warning shot, and it hit the tree right next to the person's head.

"Identify yourself! А вы кто?!"

Finland knew Russian, of course he did. Russia had tried to make Finland a part of him, so naturally something stuck from that process, even if it had ultimately failed.

The human raised his hands up, and with his superior eyesight Finland could see he had no weapons. The nation didn't like killing for no reason, he wasn't Russia. So, he told Simo to stay and went over to the human. When he got closer, he saw that the man indeed was a Russian soldier. Probably a scout. Finland told him in Russian to discard all his weapons, all the whole aiming at the man's head. The man slowly began complying, but his eyes were narrowed, and his stare was venomous.

"Белая смерть…"

The soldier hissed venomously, and with the quick reflexes of a fellow marksman he drew his pistol. But Finland was quicker, and was able to dodge with relative ease. He thought the situation was over and moved to restrain the soldier, but then he heard Simo shout out in pain behind him. Finland instantly realized what had happened. Simo was directly behind him, and the bullet had found a different mark.

Finland, with rage in his eyes, twisted the Russian soldier's arm until it broke with one clean _snap_. It was the marksman's turn to shout out in pain, and he fell to his knees, still able to glare up at Finland venomously. The nation didn't care. Without wasting a single movement, he dumped his sniper rifle, pulled out his handgun and shot the man to the temple. Blood spurted from the wound and onto both the snow and the nation, and on the soldier's face there was a vague expression of both rage and surprise. The Russian fell limp immediately, Finland had given him a quick and painless death. More than he deserved. Finland dropped the corpse and spat on it.

"Ты не единственный безжалостный здесь, Россия."

Finland whispered to the wind, that suddenly decided to blow. The way the breeze caressed Finland's face reminded the nation of Russia's cold touch. But Finland didn't waste any more time talking to nothing, he quickly grabbed his sniper rifle and ran to his fallen comrade. Finland could feel the blood on his cheek, warm against the cold wind, but did nothing to remove it. He was going to be bathed in blood by the time this war was over, but to Finland's deepest sorrow, that was the price of freedom.

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**Jumalauta = A Finnish curse, if it's spelled Jumala auta it means "God help me", but this curse kinda shortens it. It's not a hard swear, at least not in my opinion.**

**Vittu = Another Finnish curse, basically means "Fuck"**

**А вы кто?! = Who are you?!**

**Белая смерть… = White death...**

**Ты не единственный безжалостный здесь, Россия. = You are not the only ruthless one, Russia.**

**I got my Russian from Google Translate, so if I got any of these phrases wrong then please correct me.**

**I hope you liked this short fic of mine, it was a brain fart that I think turned out pretty decently and wanted to share. Leave a review and/or favourite if you feel like it :)**


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